


Longing is Just Another Type of Prayer

by Shellyked



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Dean Winchester, First Kiss, M/M, My First Fanfic, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:17:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shellyked/pseuds/Shellyked
Summary: Destiel One Shot.In which Dean can't stop thinking about a certain Angel, and Cas gives Dean a little lesson in the art of prayers.Sam ships it!





	Longing is Just Another Type of Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic! I didn't edit, because my perfectionism would never allow me to post it if I did. Enjoy :)

Dean sat on the edge of his bed cradling a beer between his hands. He had been drinking more often than not lately, and considering his track record, that was saying a lot. He pressed the beer to his lips and drank greedily, finishing the bottle in a few gulps. Closing his eyes, Dean tried to relax. An image came unbidden to his mind. It was the same image that had been driving him to drink lately. It was the image of shockingly blue eyes and dark, tousled hair. 

“Damn it” Dean sighed in frustration. He needed something stronger to deal with the emotions the mental image of Cas were eliciting. “Something much stronger,” his voice echoed in the empty room as he stood to head to the kitchen. The world tilted a little and it took Dean a moment to steady himself on his feet. He looked at the empty six pack next to his bed in slight surprise. I guess he was feeling the effects of the alcohol after all. Still, images came unbidden to Dean’s mind. A beaming smile, crooked tie, that damned trench coat. Deans face heated as he imagined knotting his fingers in the fabric of the trench coat, pulling soft lips to meet his own...

“Son of a bitch!” 

Dean shook himself willing the images to go away. He definitely needed something stronger than the previously consumed beer. Preferably something that would lead him into a dreamless sleep where he wouldn’t be haunted by thoughts of wings and the body those wings were attached to.

Dean followed the maze of halls that lead to the bunker’s kitchen. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a bottle of whiskey stashed in one of the cabinets. Dean smiled as his fingers wrapped around the aforementioned bottle.

“Hello Dean”

Dean jumped at the low voice behind him. Spinning around, bottle still in hand, Dean faced the source of the voice.

“Cas” Dean breathed taking the Angel in. He looked the same as always, and yet, the appearance of the blue eyed angel had The hair on Dean’s arms standing on end.

Dean took a steadying breath, pretending not to notice how good Cas smelt.

“We’ve discussed this Cas. Don’t sneak up on me!” This time Deans voice came out steady, if not a bit harsh.

“My apologies” Cas replied with a slight smirk on his face. He didn’t look particularly sorry at all. In fact, there was a mischievous gleam to Cas’s eyes that was beginning to make Dean regret ever leaving his room. 

“Did you know,” Cas began “that Angels always know when someone is praying to them.” 

“Of course,” Dean responded, licking his lips nervously. Cas tracked the movement with his eyes. 

“Prayers can come in many forms” Cas continued moving closer to Dean. Dean took a step back trying to create space between himself and the Angel. His back hit the cabinets. This was not good. In his inebriated state, his proximity to Cas was doing weird things to his senses. He needed an exit plan before he did something he would most definitely regret. It was one thing to daydream about kissing your best friend and Angel of the lord. It was an entirely different scenario if he were to actually act on the impulse.

As Dean frantically searched his mind for a way to quickly retreat to his room without offending Cas, Cas continued his little educational speech about prayers.

“For instance, longing....”

Dean’s eyes snapped to Cas’s. 

“Sometime someone’s desire, if deep enough, can become a prayer of sorts.”

Dean swallowed the lump rapidly forming in his throat. What was Cas saying? But Dean, even with his slowed senses, already knew where this conversation was heading. He just wasn’t sure how it would end.

“You, Dean Winchester, have done an awful lot of longing for me lately. I could never quite get a grasp on it before. Did you actually want me or were you just appreciative of my friendship?”

Dean wasn’t entirely sure if he was still breathing. 

That amused smirk was back on Castiel’s face. It was very distracting. Especially considering Cas was inching closer to Dean with every passing second. Dean had to retreat now or be pinned to the row of cabinets by the Angel. 

Dean made to sidestep out of Castiel’s reach, he needed to breathe. Hell, he needed to think. The proximity between the two was doing funny things to Dean’s insides. His mind was racing. Before he could move, two strong arms were pinning him to the wall. Dean lost his grip on the bottle of whiskey and it crashed to the ground. Neither party noticed as the dark liquid sloshed onto their shoes. 

Dean was too busy staring into his Angel’s eyes. His own pupils blown wide with the longing that was currently crashing through his system. Dean had never been man handled like this, aside from the thousands of fights he and Sammy got into. He found it beyond arousing that Cas was taking control. His arousal was evident in the tightening at the front of his pants. There was no way, with their proximity, that Cas didn’t feel that.

“What do you want?” Cas demanded, voice impossibly low.

“Hm?” Was all Dean managed to get out, still trying to hold onto the smallest piece of the denial he felt.

“You heard me,” Cas growled into Deans ear and it sent a shiver coursing down Dean’s spine.

Dean had been staring at a point behind Castiel’s head. He finally dared a glance at Cas’s face. Bright blue eyes, strong jaw, the ever present five o clock shadow. The little self control Dean had held onto slipped.

“You” he breathed, voice wrecked. “I want you.”

Cas moved fast, lips crashing into Dean’s. The kiss was all tongues and teeth and passion. This wasn’t the sweet kiss of two people who knew what their futures held for one another. No, this was the kiss of two people who had spent years longing for one another. It was the kiss of two people who had lost so much, and were hanging onto each other for dear life.

Dean moaned low in his throat as Cas twined his fingers into Dean’s hair, deepening the kiss. Dean grabbed at the lapels of Castiel’s trench coat, relishing the feeling of the soft material. This was definitely better than anything his imagination could have come up with.

The loud bang of a door brought both human and angel to their senses and they slowly pulled away from each other looking in the direction of the kitchen door.

Sam stood in the doorway with a look of complete shock on his face. 

A brilliant shade of pink rose up Dean’s neck to his cheeks. For his part, Castiel seemed completely calm despite his kiss swollen lips.

A slow smile spread across Sam’s features as he took in the scene.

“I’m not cleaning up that whiskey,” was Sam’s only comment as he turned around and walked back out the door.


End file.
